XXX-Fiction

It was one of those rare days when I had the entire house to myself. Dad was out at golf, and Mom had to take my younger twin brothers, Jake and James, to their soccer semi-finals, meaning she would have to stay and watch. This meant I had the best two hours to do whatever I wanted.

I should probably introduce myself, Cassidy, 18, and drop-dead gorgeous, with short, slightly wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and, if I do say so myself, a graceful neck leading to a more than adequate c-cup that accentuated my face when guys bothered to raise their eyes. Oh, and did I mention I was modest as well?

Guys, that was the current problem. If I had a boyfriend, we would probably already be bouncing around on my bed. I’ve had a few, but the first two were terrible in bed and had small dicks. I dumped them after about a month of putting up with their excuses. The third one, Rick, was great in bed. At least seven inches long, and he knew how to use it. He looked great with me, too. Until I found out the bastard was sleeping around at a party we attended together.

That was three weeks ago, and I had dropped him like a rock, ensuring he sank. However, the results of that decision were coming home to roost. Three weeks without sex with only my fingers to cool me off, and that was only when I knew I could get away with it. When I knew that mom, dad, or one of the twins wouldn’t burst into my room to tell me about chores or take our Dalmatian, Billy, for a walk or something else I didn’t care about. I mean, seriously. No one cares about who got what color penalty in whatever macho sport they were watching. Just more proof that all guys have balls for brains, the number of them it takes to follow one around a field for an hour, not to mention the people who are more than happy to sit back and watch!

Nevertheless, that didn’t solve any of my problems. Thinking about Rick’s seven inches was almost making me drool, and other parts of my body were starting to follow suit. I sat on the sofa before the TV and picked up the remote. I wanted this orgasm to wait, and it took all my self-control not to rip off my top and my jean shorts and finger myself to Nirvana.

I recorded and watched one of those late-night semi-porno movies for about 45 minutes. My horniness slowly gave way to frustration as I forbade myself from touching my ‘hot spot,’ and then our dog Billy came in. He was probably just hungry and nudged me right between the legs. I moaned in shock and pleasure as his bump crushed my clit against the seam of my pants, almost making me come instantly.

Before I could push him away, he did it again, again rubbing the seam of my pants hard against my drippy pussy. I shuddered and pulled him away, telling him I would deal with him soon. I sent him to the corner to ‘deal with’ myself first.

I ripped off my shorts and pulled my top down to reveal my tits. I had prepared well; I didn’t have any underwear to get in the way as I slammed two fingers into my sopping pussy, the knowledge that my dog was watching everything I was doing with a rather quizzical eye making everything dirtier. I groaned as my body jerked, and my pussy tightened around the fingers that gave it the release I had denied it.

I relaxed against the couch, panting; holding out had been worthwhile. I looked for the TV remote; it had been knocked under the sofa while I was ‘busy.’ I knelt to reach for it, giggling, and said, “Figures that my best orgasm in three weeks is me finger-fucking myself in front of Billy. I am fucked up.”

All of a sudden, a weight crashed down on top of me, a big, heavy, furry weight. To this day, I don’t know whether it was me saying, “Billy…up,” or whether he was just horny from my scent. Nevertheless, I ended up in that situation. I’m on all fours, with my pet Dalmatian trying to mount me. I had a few seconds of frantic panic as his cock searched for my entrance, and then he rammed it home, spearing my sensitive flesh. Billy bumped me forward so hard that I knocked my head against the side of the sofa.

I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel the painful heat of Billy’s thick hard cock as it filled me. Oh god, did it fill me? He was easily as big as Rick and thicker. The little voice saying this was wrong was getting smaller and smaller as I lost myself to the feeling of fullness.

Then he started pumping.

No slow build-up, oh no. The dog was straight into fifth gear, ramming into me as fast as possible. I grabbed the leg of the sofa and hung on for dear life as his pistoning jerked me back and forth on the floor. The pain of intrusion slowly disappeared into a wave of pure pleasure that crashed onto me repeatedly and sent me cumming in a frenzy. I didn’t care if it was a dog or if it was wrong because, damn, did it feel right.

Billy kept ramming me harder and faster than Rick ever did, and he had already lasted twice again as long as Rick, turning me into a ball of mewling, shuddering, incoherent pleasure. Then the base of his cock started getting thicker, swelling as he thrust back and forth inside me, and finally, the entire lump. I’d heard it being called a knot, forced its way into my tight kitty, sealing me as his as he started pouring his boiling cum inside me. He was still jerking back and forth and thrusting one more time to ensure he was solidly inside me. The action swung his heavy ball sack forward and under until it slapped hard against my clit, sending me off for one final time as my pussy started leaking his hot doggy cum down my legs.

Then I had to grab harder at the sofa as he turned around and decided to return to the corner I had sent him. I yelled out, “Stay,” and thankfully, he stopped.

His knot is still embedded inside me. We stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes, him standing still, me on my knees, arms wrapped around the sofa leg, joined by his pulsating cock. Until, with a loud ‘POP,’ he finally slid out of me, allowing the rest of our juices to cascade down my legs as I nearly collapsed.

I slowly pushed up the sofa until I stood, albeit shaky. Then I turned and looked around the room at the mess of cum at my feet. Thank god the floor was tiled. It might have nearly killed my knees, but at least cleaning up would be easy. The clock said I had fifteen minutes before I could expect somebody home. The mirror showed a hot young girl who looked as if she’d been royally fucked, her hair in a mess, covered in sweat, her tits still hanging out of a sweaty pink shirt, and cum still leaking from between red pussy lips. Then, finally, I looked over at Billy, sitting in his corner and licking himself.

“Bad dog,” I whispered, running my hand down to stop the flow of his juices from my abused kitty.

 

The End.

 

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